I fold. I sweep. I double down on old stains
on a favorite shirt. I make a checklist of all the important things I will do.

I organize old paid bills and buy a new toothbrush. I listen carefully to my dog snore.

I move through the house with feigned purpose, avoid old pictures and familiar songs,
look away from old toys

as each one brings me closer to the distance
between us
and measures lost time
in court ordered custodial half-lives.

Epic disappointments span galaxies in my inner universe, taking bits of me, all
over, like stardust, to dark cold places.

There, they sit, in the ether of free floating anxiety, where all my “choices” circle me like satellites who never sleep.

carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen

gratitude, forgiveness, redemption,
love...

all taught to me by you,
in infinite measure,
my angel and my teacher

come back to me soon
and reanimate and recombine my scattered elements.